’It wasn’t about what I wanted, but what he thought.’
’If this is Simon Lockwood’s life, then he has the right to decide how he wants to live it. I shouldn’t be the one forcing him to make a choice.’
Joanna Kennedy had a dream.
The dream was filled with the damp scent of osmanthus. Simon Lockwood stood under a dim streetlight in an old alley, his eyes downcast, his long lashes casting a deep shadow.
He opened his mouth, but Joanna couldn’t hear what he was saying. She couldn’t help but lean closer, only to be caught off guard by a pair of frosty eyes.
Then she heard his words clearly: "Joanna Kennedy, by what right?"
The words struck her to the core, a midnight nightmare made real. Joanna jerked awake, knocking over the small lamp on her nightstand with a loud clatter.
Simon Lockwood, who had just returned with food, rushed in. He ignored the lamp on the floor and knelt by the bed. "Joanna Kennedy?"
Hearing his voice, Joanna couldn’t tell if she was awake or still dreaming. Like a drowning person gasping for air, she trembled and threw herself into his arms.
Simon was stunned for only a mont before pulling her into a tighter embrace. His voice softened. "Did you have a nightmare?"
Joanna nuzzled against his chest, nodding and then shaking her head. After a long mont, she finally ca to her senses. Her voice was muffled. "If... and I’m just saying if... if my being here made you less... incredible, would you hate ?"
The silence stretched on for so long that Joanna’s heart went cold.
Simon suddenly chuckled. He asked in return, "You think I’m incredible?"
Joanna ducked her head, too embarrassed to answer.
Simon’s warm, dry fingers took hold of her chin, forcing her to look up and et his gaze. He placed a light kiss on the corner of her lips and sighed. "Joanie, I’ve never been incredible."
He only ever had to seem incredible in order to survive.
The rims of Joanna’s eyes reddened. She looked at the dark circles under Simon’s eyes, at his increasingly sharp, gaunt features. After a long mont, she slowly pushed him away.
eting Simon’s confused gaze, she smiled and asked teasingly, "What did you just call ?"
Simon didn’t say anything.
"Joanie?" Joanna wrinkled her nose. "What a weird nickna..."
"Then what would you like to call you?" Simon asked.
Joanna’s eyes lit up. "Jojo, Joanna, or Jo. Any of those are fine."
Simon was silent for two seconds before ruthlessly replying, "No."
"Why not!"
"...No reason. The answer is just no." But Simon refused to elaborate.
Joanna huffed in frustration. She asked him what kind of filling was in the buns he’d bought, fussily declaring that she wouldn’t eat celery or chives.
Simon said it was pumpkin and pork. Her attempt to stir up trouble having failed, Joanna scampered off to brush her teeth, ignoring a certain soone.
Simon watched her cheerful figure retreat, a slight curve gracing his lips.
’Joanie...’
’His Joanie. One of a kind.’
As a preparatory class for two top universities, Class A always had an incredibly intense academic atmosphere. There had been so discussion when Joanna first returned to the class.
Afterward, everyone dove back into their intense studies.
This made Joanna feel much more relaxed. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with a psycho with too much ti on his hands like Thomas Warren.
Actually, 166 had left out one of the conditions for Joanna’s return.
There was a world-class physics competition. It didn’t help much for a bonus on the college entrance exam; it was mainly a way for top international universities to recruit exceptional students.
Simon had no interest in studying abroad, so he had tactfully declined the school administration’s encouragent.
This ti, to get Joanna back into Class A, he had to sign up and represent the school in the competition.
Two other students joined him, both top perforrs in physics whose last exam scores were only a few points lower than his.
As the competition drew near, the school arranged extra training sessions for the three of them, aning Simon had to stay an hour later after school.
That day, Simon compiled a list of problems Joanna had gotten wrong and told her to do them again at ho. No slacking, and no looking up the answers online.
Joanna, who had thought she’d get a few easy days, sighed dejectedly. But she didn’t dare refuse. "I knooow..."
’Other girls get doting boyfriends or boy-next-door types. I get a college entrance exam-bot...’
On the way ho, without Simon’s company, Joanna felt out of sorts. She kicked a loose stone along the path.
As she rounded a corner, a pair of white, limited-edition sneakers suddenly appeared in her path.
Joanna looked up. The person’s face was familiar, and she frowned.
"Long ti no see." Paul Pemberton spoke first, unabashedly raking his eyes over her. He licked his lips and grinned. "Jo. You’ve been a hard girl to find."
Before Joanna could react, a few of his cronies behind him snickered and chid in. "Yeah, Miss Kennedy, you have no idea. Our man Paul has been going crazy looking for you."
"Why didn’t you co to Paul when your family ran into trouble? Living in a place like this... it must be so hard on you, Miss Kennedy..."
"It’s still early, why don’t you co hang out with us?" one of them said, reaching for Joanna’s waist. Paul Pemberton stood aside, watching nonchalantly, waiting for her to co to him for help.
Joanna’s face went cold as she dodged the wandering hands. "Sorry, I’m busy."
She discreetly slipped her hand into her down jacket pocket and gripped her cold phone.
Before she could dial, Paul’s hand shot out and snatched her phone, holding it high out of her reach.
"Give it back!" Joanna was furious. She reached for it.
Paul dangled it like he was teasing a kitten. "Nope."
His intentions were clearly hostile.
Joanna panted, glaring at him coldly. "Paul Pemberton, what the hell do you want?"
"Hey, are you actually getting mad?" Paul looked flustered for a second, but then a thought seed to occur to him, and he quickly regained his composure.
’Things are different now. As long as Joanna isn’t an idiot, she’ll know what the right choice is.’
He cleared his throat twice. Seeing Joanna’s clearly impatient expression, he dropped the pretense. "Jo, be my girlfriend."
Without a second thought, Joanna said, "No."
Paul clicked his tongue in annoyance. He leaned in closer, his voice like a tempting whisper. "I have money. If you’re with , you can still be Miss Kennedy. Buy whatever you want, eat whatever you want, go wherever you want."
He finished, looking at her expectantly. Joanna stared right into his eyes and broke into a smile. As he watched in pleasant surprise, Joanna said coldly, "You’re a psycho."
Paul Pemberton: "..."
A part of Paul genuinely did like her, so hearing this only made his expression turn awkward. He didn’t lash out at her.
He said, "Jo, just think about it. I really do like you."
Joanna acted like she hadn’t heard a thing and tried to walk around him.
Paul narrowed his eyes, blocking her path again. He said casually, "I made a mistake last ti. That guy’s na is Ethan Crowe, not your boyfriend. But you can’t really bla for the mix-up."
Joanna stopped in her tracks.
Paul’s tone dripped with superiority. "After all, who would’ve thought that the great Miss Kennedy of the Kennedy family would be dating a bar waiter?"
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